


Hangover Pizza

by lazyrobokitty



Series: warrior-prime's Humanformers Adventures [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Humanformers, M/M, imthesexycopter, warrior-prime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 19:04:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3220019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyrobokitty/pseuds/lazyrobokitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a prompt from otpprompts - imagine Person A suffering from a hangover, so they order pizza and put in the special request section, “In bed with hangover, key under the mat, my room is upstairs, first on the right.” Though they didn’t expect the delivery person to be so cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hangover Pizza

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot is a Humanformers adaptation of a relationship two roleplay characters on Tumblr. If your interested in the characters, please visit the accounts and enjoy further shenanigans. :D  
> Whirl - http://imthesexycopter.tumblr.com  
> Rodimus http://warrior-prime.tumblr.com

Whirl groaned. Mornings. He _hated_ mornings.

Especially mornings when he was hungover. They sucked. A lot.

Opening his eyes slowly, he looked around to assess the damage. One…two…three cases of empty beer and a headache. Eh, he’d had worse. Plenty worse. All of the crappy furniture was intact too, added bonus. At least his landlord couldn’t complain about that this month. Just the lack of rent, the fact the electricity has been cut off and the general state of the place.

Rolling over onto his side, the ex-pilot grabbed his phone off the floor. No food, probably next no money left, time for a pizza. With his eyes half shut, he turned the brightness right now before scrolling through his saved websites.

It wasn’t the cheapest way to live, eating pizza and drinking beer, but they’d cut his jobseekers money soon enough, may as well make the most of it now.

As soon as the Domino’s logo flashed onto his screen, he followed the all too familiar links through to his usual order. Large pizza and a large drink of coke, just in case the water company decided to cut him off too. Jerks.

Finally he reached the checkout page. Tapping on the special instructions box, he groggily tapped in: ‘ _In bed with hangover, door is open, throw the pizza at the man lying on the mattress_.’ Simple enough.

That done, he tossed the phone back onto the floor, covering himself back over with his duvet to nap until his food arrived.

*~*~*~*

Rodimus yawned loudly as tossed the pizza bag into his car. It was just past one in the afternoon and his first delivery of the day. He hated having a day shift after working a night shift. Sure a twelve hour gap seemed like more than enough time to get some sleep, but nope, not him. An hour drive home usually left him too charged to fall straight to sleep when he got home at two in the morning, so he’d eat dinner, shower and watch movies until he fell asleep on the sofa around five. Then he was up again at ten to get ready to go back to work again.

Well that’s what you get when you have rent and bills to pay and essentially no skills. A crappy job with crappy hours and especially crappy pay. If it weren’t for his equally crappy military pay, he’d probably be on the streets right now. Flopping down into the driver’s seat (and deliberately ignoring the way the suspension crunched when he did), the commander glanced at the address on his instructions. His remaining eye widened in surprise. He knew that area. That wasn’t just in the rough part of town, it was the extremely rough part of town. Dangerous.

A small smirk pulled at his lips as he turned the key in the ignition, his old red and gold Ford shuddering to life. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad day after all.

*~*~*~*

It took Rodimus less than twenty minutes to find his way around the one way systems and pull up outside one of the dingiest looking block of flats he’d ever seen – and that was really saying something. According to the instructions he’d been given, this ‘Whirl’ guy was on the fourth floor and he was just supposed to walk in. Usually that would’ve caused him more than a little concern, but if this guy really was hungover then he’d be easy enough to take down anyways.

Sliding out of his car with the pizza bag in hand, he kicked the door shut and headed inside. As soon as he walked through the threshold the scent of damp and alcohol hit him, nearly making him choke. The walls were beige with patches of black and a disturbing shade of brown. The floors were barely any better. How charming.

He took the stairs two at a time, making sure not to breathe through his nose as he did. It was going to take weeks to wash this smell from his clothes; the last thing he needed was to be able to taste it as well. Within a few minutes he was outside flat seven. As the instructions said the door was unlocked, but he still knocked twice before walking in.

The apartment was tiny. Clearly it’d been intended as a studio apartment, but it was easily the worst studio apartment he’d ever seen. The wallpaper was peeling slowly off the walls and the wooden flooring had numerous dark stains covering it. No sofa, no TV, just a fridge, cupboard, sink and mattress. As expected, on the mattress was man, probably in his late twenties, surrounded by a protective wall of beer cans and a tower of pizza boxes. He was tanned, more lightly so than Rodimus himself, with short messy silver-blue hair and still dressed in his day clothes, even down to his shoes. He didn’t look like he was concealing any weapons, but around here, you could never be too careful.

Clearing his throat, he gingerly moved closer, not daring to disturb anything, “Hello?”

“Pay your own damn rent,” the man growled sleepily from under the covers, “Can’t you see I’m hungover here.”

“I’ve got your pizza dude, I’m not your landlord,” Rodimus tried not to smirk, but he couldn’t help it. At least he didn’t laugh, that probably would’ve gotten him into trouble.

*~*~*~*

Rodimus wasn’t wrong. Whirl instantly sat up at the words ‘pizza’ and ‘not your landlord’, ignoring the way his head ached when he did. Instantly his eyes flicked over to the stranger in his home. He was about the same height as Whirl with carefully combed short red hair. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. The eye patch and the long scar running down underneath it were doing a good job holding that. Usually he might have made a small effort not to stare, but right now he couldn’t care less.

“What happened to you?” Whirl grunted as he rubbed his temple, pushing the duvet off himself.

“Afghanistan,” the other man answered simply, green eyes instantly finding some corner to stare at. So that was a soft spot apparently.

“Army?” the ex-pilot asked, raising an eye brow. Suddenly this guy was interesting. It was probably because he had Whirl’s food.

“Yes. RAF?” the red head nodded towards the tattoo on his arm, still clutching the pizza bag.

“Yeah, how’d you end up being a pizza boy?”

“I’m on temporary leave. How’d you end up in a dump like this?” the army man smirked slightly and for the first time Whirl actually felt comfortable enough around someone to smirk back.

“You’re assuming I don’t like my shitty apartment?” he asked, eager to turn the conversation away from his own service.

“You’d have to be crazy to like it,” and apparently this army guy knew how to leave a subject alone. It was almost a shame he was only the pizza guy and they’d probably never see each other again – if nothing else he could probably put up a good fight against him. Not for long, he was vastly superior to everyone of course, but still…

“Who says I’m not crazy?” Whirl’s hand unconsciously gripped the mattress tighter. He’d been called crazy too many times to count and the twinging headache reminded him that he really wasn’t in the mood to be called crazy again.

The red head took it as casually as ever though, “Actually you’re right, you did order a Domino’s pizza when Pizza Hut is closer, cheaper and better.” His gripped loosened on the mattress again.

“Dude you do not want to get into an argument with me about pizza,” Whirl’s smirk broadened, “Besides, I thought you worked for Dominos. Aren’t you supposed to tell me how amazing it is?”

“Ah I might work for Dominos but I eat Pizza Hut pizza,” Whirl snorted at that, taking the other man’s hand when it was offered to him. Standing felt a lot less strange than he’d thought it would. Bonus. “Well I guess someone has to,” pretending to brush himself off, he added nonchalantly, “The name’s Whirl.”

“Rodimus,” the red head responded with bright smile, “And I have your pizza.” Oh yeah, the pizza.

“Oh right, yeah, er- money.” Within seconds Whirl was back on the ground again, lifting up his mattress, “How much do I need again?”

“Er…nineteen ninety-eight,” he could hear Rodimus checking the receipt behind him. Scraping up all the notes and coins he could see, he counted them in his head. He barely had ten pounds, let alone twenty. Damnit.

“How much without the drink?” Behind him, Rodimus frowned.

“Seventeen ninety-nine,” there was a pause before he spoke again, “Dude, if you haven’t got the cash we could go halves on it.”

Whirl spun around to face the commander, trying, and as far as he was concerned succeeding, to keep the surprise off his face, “You’d do that?” The other merely shrugged in response.

“Why not? I haven’t got anything exciting to eat today, and its payday. I’ll just come pick up my half when I get off shift.”

This guy – Rodimus – was officially ‘Okay’ in Whirl’s book. “Cool.” Throwing the change up at him, Whirl really did have to try not to look impressed when he caught it all one handed, “What time is that then?”

“Probably around five,” Rodimus threw the pizza to him and Whirl eagerly caught it. Still warm, perfect. “Depends on what mood the supervisors in.”

“Fine, but I’m taking an extra slice for every ten minutes your late,” Rodimus chuckled at that, glaring at him.

“You can try, but for every slice of mine you eat, I’ll punch you in the face,” that sparked Whirl into action, growling playfully at his retreating form.

“I’d floor you, army guy!”

“Not before I floor you, fly boy!” Whirl’s front door slammed shut just in time to stop a beer can smacking Rodimus in the face.

“I’ll get you later then!” he shouted through the door, smirking when he heard Rodimus laughing as he walked away.

Turning back to his pizza, he flopped down on the mattress, still smirking to himself. Apparently he’d made a friend. A very good looking friend.


End file.
